Not Fine
by lighthouse11
Summary: Sam's expecting a quite night in, when he finds a desperately sick Castiel in his living room. One shot.


A/N: None of the characters owed by me. Set somewhere after 10x1 (though obviously not directly afterwards!), possibly even later in season 10. I'd like to think this happens somewhere along the line. Castiel is desperate and goes to Sam for help. One shot. Please read, review and enjoy.

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Sam wouldn't have gone so far as to say that he was shocked by Castiel's presence in the living room, but he certainly hadn't expected the angel to be there. The two hadn't seen each other for some weeks, and the last time Sam had contacted Cas had been on the phone. Even then Cas hadn't sounded well, but this was something else, something Sam definitely didn't expect. Cas hadn't bothered to shut the curtains, so what light remained outside gave away Cas's presence as Sam had entered the house, though Sam had the feeling Cas was probably not be trying to hide from him.

"Cas, what the hell?" Sam asked, turning on the light to the living room. Cas blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. He was standing in the middle of the room, looking hopeless and forlorn.

Cas coughed lightly. "I'm fine," he breathed, repeating the lie that he'd been telling himself all too often of late.

"What the hell? Cas this is ridiculous. You are not fine. What's going on?" Sam wasn't about to admit in as many words that he was worried about Cas, but he was. It wasn't that Cas looked sick pale and sweaty and could hardly stand up straight that had Sam worried. It was that Cas looked scared. Properly terrified and desperate.

"I'm okay," Cas said, then coughed rather violently.

"Like hell you're okay," Sam said, shutting the curtains with more force than was probably necessary. Should he offer Cas medicine? Call an ambulance? What were you supposed to do when there was a sick angel in your front room? Was Cas sick? Or hurt? Or both?

"Sam, I just need…" Cas trailed off and swayed. Sam grabbed the collar of Cas's shirt just in time to stop Cas collapsing on the ground.

"Tell me what the hell is wrong with you." Sam demanded.

"I'm fine…"

"You're not fine, Cas!" Sam snapped, "You can't even stand up. What do you need? You wouldn't have come here if you didn't think I could help you."

"Dean…"

"Dean's not here," Sam said adjusting his grip of Cas. Awkwardly, with only the one arm available, Sam dragged Cas over to the couch. Castiel sat down heavily and leant forward and coughed. Cas's whole body shook while he coughed, but all Sam could bring himself to do was stand and watch.

"Dean…" Cas wheezed as the coughing subsided.

"He's gone Cas, he can't help you. Tell me what you need." Sam said, gritting his teeth.

"I think - I think it's going to kill me," Cas said between jagged breaths.

"Hey, you've been killed enough times in the past and you've always come back."

"No, Dean, not this time." Cas said, weakly shaking his head whilst staring at the floor.

"It's Sam, not Dean."

"Dean…" Castiel whispered, struggling to maintain consciousness.

Great, thought Sam, he'd sick _and_ delusional. Sam didn't want to think about Dean. All he ever seemed to think about was Dean and how he was going to save his brother; that was, if his brother was still in that body to save. The last thing he wanted was to have to save Castiel as well. Cas was an angel. Who'd ever heard of anyone having to save an angel? Weren't angels supposed to help you? Well, Dean thought, since none of his life really made sense, he might as well go along with it.

"Dean, help me…" Cas begged.

"Dean's not…" Sam began, but stopped himself as Castiel managed to raise his head and looked desperately into Sam's eyes. Castiel's eyes seemed to be filled with every hurt and sadness and pleading imaginable. Sam sighed. "I don't know how to help you, Cas. You have to tell me," Sam said pragmatically, "I don't know what you need."

"Just…Dean…"

Sam rolled his eyes. He moved and sat down slowly on the couch beside Cas. Cas leant into Sam and Sam wrapped his good arm around the angel. Cas's breathing was uneven and shallow and too rapid. "Hey, it's alright," Sam said, deciding sweet nothings were preferable to arguing, especially with Cas in his current state. Besides, he found himself pitying the angel. He must be in real bad shape to come to me for help, Sam thought. "Relax. You'll be alright. We can fix this."

"Sam…" Cas pleaded.

"I'm not gunna let you die, Cas," Sam said as Cas rested his head against Sam's chest. "I'm gunna save you. And Dean. Somehow. There's gunna be some way. I'm gunna save you both."


End file.
